


Red

by TheRighteousMan (FullmetalFlameElric)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: One Shot, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalFlameElric/pseuds/TheRighteousMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles investigates the ruins of the Hale Brickworks fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> The photographs are of an actual place located in Perth, Western Australia. I went there with my family while visiting for the summer holidays and took the pictures and wrote this little snippet. Enjoy.

[](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/843/fzvv.jpg/)

The Hale family had once been a central part of the town. As one of the wealthiest families in the area and their close knit family unit, they had been there since the founding of the town. Back when the place was trying to get on it’s feet, they built the area’s first brick work. It was a large plot of land just on the edge of the town border with a decent sized building at it’s center.

It had a small office in the front end, chairs and tables set out to do business along with filing cabinets and books of records. Family photos adorned the walls, giving it a welcoming feel and an almost lived in look that fit in with the good natured family that owned it. Beyond the door at the far end, the workshop, as it was humbly called, spread out in a wide expanse of cement flooring. There, frames for the brick molds were stacked one on top of the other, creating towers caked in clay from years of use. A large press stood at the far end of the of the shop like a sentry overlooking the troughs where the clay was mixed.

Outside, five smokestacks stood proud. Their shadows stretched in the late evenings and early mornings as the sun set and rose. Two stacks rested against the main building, working as part of the central system as well as a vent for the heat in the winters for the main work floor. The other three towered over eight large kilns, each big enough for a full grown man to stand in and still have room above his head.

For nearly two hundred years it stood as a monument of the town, a symbol for how far they had come from the people just setting out to make a place of their own. The entire time, the Hale family remained a prominent family despite how little was really known about them. Very little was ever done in the town without the Hale family being involved in some way, be it sponsoring or getting their simple opinion.

It remained as such until the fateful night of November 16th, 1997. The fire lit up the sky over the town like a setting sun as smoke drifted lazily overhead. There wasn’t a single resident that slept that night.

The reports say the fire blazed for four hours before they began to get it under control. The main building was destroyed, the two closest smokestacks singed from the soot and heat of the fire. Everyone inside had died. The only remaining members of the Hale family were two young children and their uncle. They didn’t remain in the area long.

A week later the cause of the fire was released to the public. The entire thing was ruled as arson.

The property remained under the Hale name, Peter Hale deciding to tear down the remains of the main building. The smokestacks were left along with the 8 kilns, now left to slowly crumble into disrepair. After that, any involvement from the Hale family ceased. A fence was erected around the kilns to keep people out, bricks and and wooden planks left to weather within the confines as time wore on.

A single reminder, the charred remains of a dynasty.

[ ](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/29/pvvj.jpg/)

Growing up, Stiles had always been mystified by the stories of the Hale Brickworks. He’d only been two when it had happened, too young to remember anything of the incident and blissfully unaware that his happiness with his mother was on a dangerous timer. For years he’d ride his bike past the fenced off plot of land, watching as grasses grew in the cracks between the cement that remained from the building that had once stood proud. As he got older, he would stop and take photographs of the spot from afar. The closest he ever got was up to the fence, fingers threading through the chainlink as he pressed closer to get a good look at the kilns just out of reach.

He stopped going after a group of kids broke through the fence and entered. The place was vandalised, the kids were reported missing a day later. The scene a local officer stumbled upon within the perimeter of the fence made headlines a day later. Being close enough to the woods that bordered the town, people became wary of the place. Stories of it being haunted or home to a bear sprung up. Some went as far as to invent sightings of something dark moving around in the shadows. One woman reported seeing a pair of red eyes peering back at her as she walked her dog late one night. Her dog had gone nuts and run off. 

It never turned up.

It was only after the night of graduation that Stiles finally worked up the courage to investigate his childhood mystery. The place had been the subject of many an imaginary childhood adventure and a shared fascination between he and his mother.

[ ](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/856/kry4.jpg/)

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Scott’s voice echoed from behind him, the slightly shorter teen glancing around nervously as Stiles scrambled over the bent portion of the fence. He sidestepped a protruding section of barbed wire and danced over one last bent pole before landing on the moss covered cement and looking back to his friend.

“Yes. Seriously, dude. We’re only gonna be here for an hour at most. I just wanna take a look around, get a few pictures, you know? Nothing too dangerous.” Stiles replied, amusement lacing the brown gaze leveled on Scott. The shorter paused and sent him a glare before stumbling over the fence and into Stiles. The two staggered a few steps before Stiles snorted and shoved Scott back onto his feet. “One of these days you’ll be able to walk like a normal human being.”

“Hush. At least I can run without tripping over my own feet.” Scott shot back, smirking slightly as he stepped further into the growing shadow of a smokestack.

“What can I say? It’s a talent.” Stiles mused, adjusting the settings on his camera and snapping a shot. There wasn’t an answer, just the sound of Scott stepping further into the maze of kilns. Stiles, himself, continued further in, snapping photos now and then as he took in the crumbling remains around him.

Bricks were stacked now and then, most having been fired. An entire stack had dried, waiting to be fired but only making it as far as the outer shell of the kiln before the place was shut down. Wood was rotting and nails were rusted from rain and exposure to the air. It looked like something out of a post apocalyptic movie.

Circling a smokestack, Stiles paused. His brow furrowed and he knelt down, looking at the opening that lead to the bottom of the chimney. water stood stagnant in the center opening just to his left. A piece of steel stood alone in the water, jutting up as if it had fallen into it. Brown eyes darted up, finding no nearby steel beams that it could have been from. He dropped his gaze back down to the metal covering over the second on his right. The steel was rusted and bent, lifted at an angle as if forced from beneath and then pressed back down to cover the opening once more.

[](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/839/oer1.jpg/)

Straightening up, Stiles glanced to where Scott was looking at a kiln. The opening was blocked off with brick and wood, the other side much the same. It was an odd looking arrangement, but not all that odd when really considered. Knowing he’d be fine, Stiles made his way around the first opening to the side opposite the metal covering. The sight that greeted him was even more confusing.

Bricks had been torn from any of the stacks close enough and dropped hastily into the opening. They were piled haphazardly into the water and chimney base, reaching up and peeking through the wooden platform atop them. Boards were busted, the wood looking barely strong enough to set a foot on, let alone to stop anything from going through. Red was spray painted onto the sides, the job done in a hurry from the mess made of the lines.

A brick shifted and crashed to the cement behind Stiles and he spun around. His gaze darted back and forth frantically, looking for the source. There was no one there.

“...Scott?”

No answer.

The shadows around him had grown to long monstrous looking scars of black on the earth below. Night was fast approaching and what little light that was left was beginning to play tricks on the eye.

“Scott?” He called again, worry beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach when he failed to get a response. Quickly stepping away from the smokestack, Stiles hurried back the way he’d come. “Scott!?” he called louder.

Something shifted out of the corner of his eye and he halted, head snapping to look in that direction. He was greeted by nothing but shadow. The hair on the back of his neck rose, a shiver running down his spine as the feeling of eyes watching him registered in his hyper alert mind. Breathing picking up, Stiles moved a step away from the shadows and continued further with a new purpose.

“Scott!” He called again, louder.

Another shadow moved and he spun around to follow it behind him. There was nothing.

The blood rushed in his ears, his heartbeat quickening.

[ ](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/22/u5uk.jpg/)

The click of a claw echoed loudly through the brick maze. Stiles went deathly still, his breathing stopping as he focused on the sound coming from behind. From the only way out.

Another click and a tap of something hitting the concrete. Something wet.

Stiles swallowed, closing his eyes as he focused. He could hear a rasping sound now, the air being dragged harshly into lungs.

Plip. Plip.

Click.

Stiles’ eye snapped open.

Click.

Plip. Click.

A growl.

[](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/10/dfk7.jpg/)/p>

Slowly, Stiles turned his head to look over his shoulder, doing his best to stay ready to bolt if need be. One thing ran through his mind as he took in the two-legged figure standing behind him, fur covering the long limbs that ended in claws. The local legends of a bear taking up residence in the old kilns was indeed false. At least he didn’t think so. The last time Stiles had checked, bears didn’t have red eyes.

Teeth flashed white in the moonlight.

Stiles screamed.

[ ](http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/189/mtlg.jpg/)


End file.
